Set The World On Fire
by BlackRosePoetry
Summary: I'm Back! And this time, I've brought a canon-pairing with me! In this world, TVK lives! SQUEE! But, injured and drugged beyond all comprehension, how long will it take for "life" to return to normal for Their Vampiric Majesties?
1. Chapter 1

**Set The World On Fire**

The Vampire King stared at row after row of muskets, his mind working at barely a quarter of its normal speed. Nothing seemed real. He'd just defeated General Bellorum, so this couldn't be possible. Could it? Shouldn't a leader of his stature value things such as honor and gentlemanly conduct? Of course, this was Scipio Bellorum; expect the unexpected revolved around everything he did.

"Ready,"

Barrel after barrel lowered to aim across the decks. A hollow silence fell across the air, pounding in each and every warrior Vampires' ears. They knew what was about to occur. Something about the poetic cruelty of this situation kept them glued to where they stood, simply gazing in horrified awe at every gun that was pointed in their direction. So many things passed through each soldier's mind, from their "friends" down below, to how it was going to be in non-existence. Only one thing crossed that of His Vampiric Majesty's. . . .

_My little corpse. . . .Darling, forgive me for my folly._

"Aim,"

Her Vampiric Majesty's beautiful perfection flashed into the king's mind and for one moment, one perfectly pristine amazing second, he wasn't standing on an airship in the middle of a godforsaken war. In that moment, he was dancing with his queen in the Blood Palace, twirling in a graceful pattern to the thrum of steady music. Everything, from the perfume of her inky hair to that wickedly gorgeous gleam in her icy blue eyes, stood out in his mind.

And for the first time since this whole damned thing had started, the Vampire King's mind snapped into high-gear. He realized that if he didn't move, his queen would be without him. . . . There was nothing on this earth that he wanted less than that. A world in which he could not be with his queen was not a world at all; a place such as that could only be described as hell.

The man Bellorum had called Captain Horatius was drawing breath to scream the final order that would end His Vampiric Majesty and his squadrons. Onyx eyes widening, the king let out a screech that made everyone cover their ears in pain. He dashed to the sides, managing to leap off the airship as the Polypontian captain called over his cacophonous scream.

"FIRE!"

A throbbing pain erupted in the Vampire King's leg; one of the wooden bullets had reached him after all. Excruciating agony clouded his mind, making it nearly impossible for the king to transform. On and on he fell, tumbling through the war-torn sky like a ragdoll. Blood dripped onto his face. For the first time in centuries, the king found himself disgusted by the scent of it. There would always be someone somewhere bleeding on a battlefield.

His Vampiric Majesty watched the earth below rapidly approach, gravity pulling him towards an unforgiving surface below without mercy. Soon, he would reach it and be crushed on soil that had been soaked with blood. Tears began to trickle slowly down the king's cheeks. He realized something as he fell through Frostmarris' skies; even though he'd escaped death by Bellorum's hand, his demise would be courtesy of the earth.

Suddenly, something landed underneath his body, pushing the king skyward. His head lolled to the side, catching a glimpse of Lugosi's familiar face. A cynical laugh erupted through the tears and he gripped his chamberlain's light gray fur tightly.

"Thank you, Lugosi."

The Master of Vampiric Ceremonies looked over his shoulder, catching a glance at his ruler's injured leg. Bone fragments and blood erupted from a hole in the king's upper-leg; the sight was enough to make even the eight hundred year old Vampire cringe slightly. "Sire, we're going to the infirmary. You need to have your injury seen to."

Fingers like iron dug painfully into Lugosi's back as he turned towards the city. The Vampire King was livid, eyes blazing as he struggled to make his chamberlain return to the battlefield. He hissed and spat vicious threats through fangs that were clenched so tightly they drew blood.

"Lugosi! Turn back this instant, or so help me, I'll destroy you with my bare hands. Do you hear me? Turn around, you miserable servant!"

Despite his king's threats of death and destruction, the chamberlain flew on towards the infirmary. It didn't take him very long to reach the entrance, returning to his human-shaped form after a few witches had removed His Vampiric Majesty. The king kept on ranting, struggling with everyone that kept touching him and insisting that he was fine despite his injuries. In fact, there were a few instances that he even tried to stand, only to be wrestled down by a few brave warlocks.

The warlocks carried him quickly to an open cot, calling for Oskan Witchfather as they went. It wasn't long before he arrived, carrying a vial of carefully-measured clear liquid. His face was set in a weathered frown even though he'd just started to get a good look at the king's injuries. "Your Majesty, I'm going to have to ask you to stop ranting and drink this."

His Vampiric Majesty hissed in annoyance and pain, casting one last withering look towards the Witchfather. Then he snatched the vial from Oskan's hand and downed it in one long gulp. He grimaced; the liquid tasted absolutely disgusting. It was like a combination of dirt and some other substance that he couldn't even begin to imagine. But quickly he was beginning to feel something else. Warmth was spreading throughout his body, taking away all the pain he'd been feeling so far.

Unconsciousness was beginning to overtake him, and vaguely the king heard Oskan say, "Okay, let's start operating."

* * *

><p>Her Vampiric Majesty had barely touched down before beginning to run towards the infirmary. The squadrons had fought long and hard, only just being able to hold back Bellorum's Sky Navy until he called for a strategic retreat. Thirrin's forces had already forced the ground armies to leave; that had saved the Vampire forces in this particular battle.<p>

_But at what cost?_

She'd seen from afar what had happened to her consort. In fact, it was she who had ordered Lugosi to save the Vampire King and fly him to the infirmary. But throughout the battle, she couldn't keep her mind off her injured consort. What had happened? Would he be existence still when she returned? All these questions had been left unanswered until now.

Despite her achingly tired muscles, the Vampire Queen reached the infirmary in what seemed like mere seconds. She burst through the door, eyes searching for a familiar profile through the unfamiliar, bleeding, screaming masses of soldiers and drummers. Finally, she saw her consort lying on a cot at the far end, eyes closed as witches swarmed around him.

The queen tried to rush forward, but was stopped by a pair of surprisingly strong arms. Oskan's voice floated to her ear. His tone sounded soothing, but there was something weary and annoyed about it. "Your Majesty; you can't see him right now. The witches are still working. It'll be some time before you're going to be able to see your consort."

A hiss erupted from Her Vampiric Majesty's lips as the Witchfather pulled her out of the infirmary. She struggled and fought, trying to get away from the man that was keeping her from her consort. Curses in every language that she could think of spewed from the queen's mouth. Fangs of polished ivory flashed as she tried to bite Oskan's arms.

"Your Majesty! Stop fighting me and listen!"

Immediately, the Vampire Queen froze, whipping around to stare at the warlock holding her arms with wide azure eyes. Tears gathered in the crystalline orbs as Oskan dragged her towards the street. His pupil-less gaze was harsh and cold; there was no mercy in that harsh stare. When he spoke, the warlock's voice was rough, filled with raw emotion that she didn't think was possible to have.

"His Vampiric Majesty is in very bad condition; it'll be at least two hours before he wakes up. We had to give him enough poppy to knock out a horse in order to kill his pain. I was surprised that he hadn't already passed out. As it were, we should have him back in the citadel recuperating by nightfall. Do you understand?"

The queen nodded. She felt so numb. Everything felt fuzzy and clouded. Nothing felt _real _anymore. It was some time before she realized that Oskan had already left, and that she was all alone, no one but the ghosts to witness the tears that streamed down her face. She stumbled off, pacing towards the citadel at a slow speed that was nearly staggering. She passed wounded housecarls and Hypolitan archers, watching as each one moaned or gritted their teeth in sheer agony. More and more liquid flowed in rivers down her cheeks; many of her own subjects were among those lying around in the streets, bleeding from wounds that weren't healing due to Sun poisoning.

But one person in particular caught Her Vampiric Majesty's attention the most. Amongst all of the wounded and dying soldiers, sitting with housecarls, Snow Leopards, and Wolf-folk warriors that were bandaged like mummies, was a single little girl. She clutched a blood-soaked stuffed bunny, worrying the little toys ears as she looked around with teary eyes. This child couldn't have been more than seven, in yet she was standing in all the carnage with no able-bodied adult in sight.

The Vampier Queen watched the small girl sit down next to an injured Hypolitan warrior, hand him her little bunny, and curl up to his side. And in that one instance, the warrior smiled lightly, grinning despite his agonizing wounds. It only took a small girl and her stuffed animal to make this man know that he was no longer alone.

A feeling of helpless longing filled the queen's heart and she darted off towards the citadel. It wasn't long before she reached the stables, such was the urgency of her sprint. She sank into an empty stall, sliding down a back wall and burying her face in her hands. By now, the tears that had fallen in a steady stream were now flowing in a torrent, accompanied by complete and utter lonliness. Of course she was exstatic that her consort had survived the attack that should have ended his life, but now he was lying in a dirty infirmary, bleeding and wounded and in pain.

So she couldn't help but ask the question. . . .

_What will I do if you don't return? Darling, please come back._

"I need you," Her Vampiric Majesty whispered, finally succumbing to the sobs that had threatened to leave her body ever since Oskan had pulled her away from the infirmary doors.

**_Hey! _**

**_I finally came up with a pairing that was ACTUALLY cannon! The thought had come to my mind while listening to Black Veil Brides "_**_The Mortician's Daughter**". Of course, I'm going to need some reviews to help me keep going. And yes, I am looking at you madam-du-batty!**_

**_Please leave a review._**

**_The button in the page's crotch is what you click to leave such a thing behind. _**

**_With lots of love and hopes that are most likely soon to be crushed,  
>BlackRosePoetry<em>**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

His Vampiric Majesty groggily opened his eyes, trying to clear the fog that clouded his normally sharp mind. He felt as if someone had stuffed his mouth with cotton after trying to remove his skull-cap with a rusty butter knife. Everything on his body, especially the upper portion of his left leg, ached horribly, but it took some moments before the events that proceeded his awakening returned to his hazy memory. Once each memory had finally clicked into its proper place, a deep-seated panic began to set into the king's every quickening brain.

_Where is my Queen?_

Sitting up quickly, the king was awarded with an extremely rare wave of nausea that nearly made him expell all the blood he'd drank in the past few weeks. But somehow, he managed to keep it down, grimacing at the taste of bitterly-acidic bile that rose into his mouth. Immediately, he realized that there was something wrong with his leg; it was bound with white bandage and plaster. The Vampire cursed lowly as he remembered the cause for his being in the god-awful place they called an infirmary. After a moment, he decided that trying out the damaged limb was a plausible action of sorts. There were plenty of crutches simply lying around, either propped up against walls or sitting in unused piles of straw.

However tempting that particular idea may have been, Oskan Witchfather's sudden appearance by the bed quickly put any thoughts of escaping out of the Vampire King's reach. Judging by the look on the warlock's face, there was no way he was leaving without any supervision anytime soon. An annoyed look crossed his face as Oskan said, "Well, it seems you _do_ have a chance of making it through this after all."

The king hissed in agitated embarassment. "I don't have time for this, warlock! Grab me a crutch; I'm going to my caves to make sure my consort is alright."

Oskan allowed a rather embarassed look of his own to cross his face. "Well, it seems that Her Vampiric Majesty was rather upset over your injuries. Sadly, it was Grishmak who found out about this - he's all bandaged up now, but told me that Tharaman-Thar and Thirrin were keeping her good company up in the Great Hall."

Another frown creased the king's fine features as he tried to comprehend what the Witchfather had just told him. His consort wasn't one to get upset over much; in fact, it was usually she who kept cool even when he'd lost his temper. More than once she'd saved one of their younger subjects from being flayed with a whip. But this just made his resolve stronger. Now, he had more than double the reason to get back to his queen hastily.

Without further ado, His Vampiric Majesty swung both legs carefully over the edge of his cot, testing his weight on the right one before Oskan could stop him. Shock and annoyance flashed in the warlock's eyes as he watched his Vampire patient try to balance precariously on one leg. Perfectly calm, the king turned his onyx-colored eyes to his "doctor", saying conversationally, "If you would rather not see me fall and injure something else, I suggest you grab me some crutches."

Blinking, Oskan Witchfather stared at the Vampire King for a moment before swiping a tall enough set of crutches from a nearby wall. He didn't say a word as the king took them from his grasp and began to teach himself the art of crutch walking.**(A/N: and yes, there is a complete, utter, and total ART to walking with crutches when you're overly tall) **"You know, if you were a human, I would be spitting fire and screaming for you to lay back down."

His Vampiric Majesty, by now already half-way to the exit, looked back with an almost impish grin. "Yes I know this. But I'm not a human or a normal soldier, now, am I?"

And then the king turned his attention away from the utterly shocked warlock, not even deigning to glance at the human that had saved his "life". Cool night air hit his face, calming his raging nerves and anxiety somewhat. Something about the breezes were comforting, like a familiar lullaby that a mother always sang to her child. Even those that rustled his perfect waves of inky hair were softly whispering songs of normalcy and happiness. It was odd, thinking about things such as happiness and lullabies while hobbling along with a busted leg. . . .

But the Vampire King would have it no other way.

* * *

><p>The Vampire Queen downed her third glass of whiskey, annoyed at the fact that she recieved nothing - not even a slight buzz - from the amber liquid. Most of the time, being an undead was incredibly useful and just downright fun. But it was times such as these that made the queen feel that not technically being alive just plain sucked. Not being able to get drunk was one side-effect of "living" in such a state. A good thing about being undead was that you could spend eternity with the ones you loved; but when they got hurt or destroyed, you just wanted to curl up into a ball and die along with them.<p>

Which, of course, was impossible in the highest sense of the word.

A growl escaped Her Vampiric Majesty's throat as she glared at the offending shot-glass in her hand. From behind her, Tharaman-Thar's refined voice stated in amusement, "Your Majesty, making animal noises while trying to break the glass with your eyes does nothing beneficial."

From her position in front of the fire, the queen looked over her shoulder with one of her famous if-you-don't-shut-up-in-five-seconds-I'll-tear-your-lungs-out glares. "Yes it does Tharaman; glaring helps me feel better." She turned back to gaze into the flickering yellow flames. "If only slightly."

Thirrin gestured to a nearby chamberlain for more spirits, taking two large shot-glasses from his tray and passing one to the rather upset Vampire beside her. "Here; even if you can't get drunk, this is bound to do _something _to calm you down. To be quite frank, I would rather not have a repeat of what happened with Grishmak."

The queen gazed at her newest friend without emotion before emptying the rather potent drink in one gulp. Tharaman winced slightly; poor Grishmak really shouldn't have laughed when he found Her Vampiric Majesty crying. Such an act of stupidity seemed completely unfathomable, but apparently, the Wolf-folk King _was _capable of such a stupid feat.

"Why don't you just sit down? Oskan sent a message up that said His Vampiric Majesty should be waking up soon," he stated calmly, still rather sore over the Vampire's immunity to alcohol.

Sighing, the Vampire Queen eased herself into one of the nearby chairs, leaning against the lush upholstery. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, but still she kept them in check. The one person she'd ever come to let know herself,the one man who'd been her companion throughout the long years of their death, was lying on a cot down in the infirmary. If something were to happen to him. . . . .well, she didn't really want to think about that. It was just simply infathomable, thinking about what her existence would be like without her consort's constant presence and support. He was the one person who made her feel special and cared for and - dare she admit it - _**loved**. _

Lost in thought, Her Vampiric Majesty didn't notice the hollow sound of footsteps eminating from behind them. Nor did she hear the hushed voices of Thirrin and Tharaman as they negotiated with someone over leaving. All she could hear in her dazed state was the almost-deafening crackle of the fireplace.

And then someone on crutches blocked out all the light emanating from the fireplace. Looking up, the queen came face to face with her consort's tired, smiling features. "Hello, my little corpse."

For a moment, all she could do was sit there and gawk, blue eyes wide and filling with tears. It was like being in a dream, watching the Vampire King appear in front of her, damaged and worn, but still the same man that she had fallen in love with those many eons ago. The queen stood quietly, approaching her consort in a slow and careful manner. Without warning, she slapped him full across the face, tears streaming down her cheeks as she watched his expression shift to shock.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, you stupid man," the Vampire Queen whispered before crashing her lips against his in a bruising kiss.

It lasted for almost a minute, seeming like it should never end, but eventually Their Vampiric Majesties broke apart. The king had dropped his crutches in the midst of his wife's assault against his lips, so he was now forced to balance on one leg. The queen, however, didn't seem to mind that her consort was using her as a make-shift crutch. She was too busy hugging him tight enough to crack ribs to care whether or not she was being his only means of standing. Tears streamed down her face as she pressed her face into the king's half-bare chest.

"I was so worried that you might have died. I just couldn't bear the thought that you could've possibly been. . . " Her Vampiric Majesty choked on the words and didn't continue, but her meaning could clearly be heard in the hesitancy of her voice.

His Vampiric Majesty pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and whispered, "Shush; I'm fine. I'll be to normal in no time and then we'll be able to take down that troublesome mortal together. Okay?"

A smile split the queen's face. She nuzzled her face into the crook of the king's neck and inhaled his musky scent. It was tainted with blood and sweat, but not even the horrible consequences of war or injury could block out her consort's distinct smell. He smelled of chocolate and wine and, strangely, rose cologne. Normally, it would just be chocolate and wine: apparently, Oskan had given him a dash of his favorite cologne in order to block out the infirmary's horrible stench. Well, it didn't work, but she did appreciate the effort to keep her consort smelling sweet.

"Darling?"

The Vampire Queen smiled lightly, looking back up at her consort with shining blue eyes. "Yes, dearest heart?"

"May we please sit down? I dropped my crutches, and as pleasant as holding you is, my leg is beginning to ache."

Without even thinking about panicking, the queen helped the Vampire King sit in the seat she herself had previously occupied. A sigh escaped his lips, and he wasted no time in propping his leg up on a foot-rest, waiting for the gentle throb that had built up in his injured appendage to ease. "Thank you, my little pie of putrescence."

Her Vampiric Majesty shot him a grin that could've lit up the entire room, sitting down carefully on the uninjured portion of his lap. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, stroking the perfect little hairs that curled at the base of the king's neck. A purr began to work its way up his throat, and the queen recognized the perfect opportunity to ask a question of her co-ruler.

"Darling; may I ask you something?"

The king relaxed, head lolling backwards against the thickly upholstered chair and muttered, "You can ask me anything as long as you keep doing that."

Despite herself, the queen smiled, leaning in close to whisper against the senstive shell of her consort's ear. "Promise me you'll never do anything that stupid again. Because if you do, I will not hesitate to bring your knees, begging for mercy. Do we understand each other?"

His Vampiric Majesty's onyx eyes shot open and he stared into the face of his completely serious a nervouse gulp, he muttered, "Of course, darling."

A wicked grin. "Good; I don't want to have to ruin that handsome face."

_**OMJ! That one took a long time to come up with! I knew what I wanted to put, but I just couldn't seem to figure out how to put it in Icemarky terms. But at last! It has ARRIVED! *maniacal Jokerish-laughter* Oh and by the way, the "j" in OMJ is equal to jerky. Just a little fun-fact.**_

_**Welp, I hope you enjoy it!**_

_**Sincerely,  
>BlackRosePoetry<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter Three**_

It was quiet in Frostmarris; too quiet to be good.

General Scipio Bellorum watched with an air of cold calculation, his grizzled face pulled into a well-practiced expression of steel. He was absolutely furious that his plan to rid himself of the Vampires had failed. It should've been fool-proof: however, there was always some variable that threw even the simplest course of action to the wind. Still, he should've known that the ruler of the abominations that caused him the most grief would find a way to wriggle out of his grasp. Bellorum drew a tiredly resigned breath. Oh well; there was no use on dwelling on a past action in this particular war. His "Lightning War" would destroy the Icemark and their queenling in a matter of weeks. Resistance was futile by now, even if he hadn't succeeded in crushing their moral by killing the Vampire King.

A breath of wind brushed against his scarred cheek and the General narrowed his eyes. There was something amiss, but he couldn't put his finger on it. His stump ached; that was a signal of trouble in of itself. Behind him, Octavius and Sulla rode up to stand at a respectful distance.

Octavius spoke, voice quiet with resignation. "Father, there some kind of energy arrows falling from the forest. Already three of our best men have fallen to these projectiles. What's our next course of action?"

Concentrated fury rolled through Scipio's hardened frame and he turned his horse to face his sons. His icy-gray eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence as he forced his charger into a swift trot towards the border of their encampment. Both young men followed in silence, knowing that speaking was likely to get them in situation that was almost certain to be deadly.

The head of the Bellorum clan spoke, his voice sinking to a purr of cold fury. "We bomb the trees the next three times we attack that blasted city. These abominations will not be tolerated!".

* * *

><p>Her Vampiric Majesty nearly staggered back into the central caverns, fatigue radiating off her lithe form. Almost two days straight without much sleep was starting to take its toll on the undead ruler. Now she was beginning to feel a burning ache bite through every muscle and bone in her body. Still, being bone-crushingly tired wasn't the worst thing in the world; at least she could have an excuse to sleep on her consort's chest.<p>

A slight smile came to her face as the queen thought of just passing out in His Vampiric Majesty's arms. Ever since the incident with him and that thrice-damned general, she'd started to think about an existence without him. And, without a second's hesitation, she admited that it would be a waking hell if she couldn't be with the man who had become her whole world.

She entered the cavern, trudging over to where His Vampiric Majesty reclined in a divan, and plopped down next to him. The Vampire Queen sighed loudly and curled up on his chest with a slightly hollow thud. A frown creased his face as he began to run his fingers through her delicate, silky curls. "Dearest heart, are you sure you're feeling okay? Oskan told me that I'm free to go and injure myself once again if you're not up to the evening raid."

Something rose into Her Vampiric Majesty's throat, squeezing her windpipe with crushing force, and she curled up closer to his chest. "No; I don't want you getting injured again just because I'm a little worn out. I'll be fine, but you're still on the mend."

The king's frown deepened, but he didn't say anything else. Their Vampiric Majesties sat in complete silence for a long while, resting in a single perfect moment that they thought shouldn't ever end.

But of course, it would be ruined by a scream of rage from a mortal female above.

The Vampire King allowed an irritated sigh to pass between his parted lips. An irate glare was leveled at the offender above through the granite ceiling, and he tightened his arms protectively around the woman curled up on his chest. "You know, if that idiotic woman comes down here, I'm tempted to simply ignore Thirrin's orders and eat her."

A laugh erupted from the queen's throat and she pressed a kiss to the line of his cheekbone. "Dearest heart, please don't be rash. Just lay here with me for a moment longer. I'm too tired to get up and start killing people right now."

"I didn't say you had to kill her; I simply said that I'd be forced to eat her. Besides, I could still eat her _and _hold you at the same time; I am rather talented when it comes to multi-tasking."

When no response met his comment, His Vampiric Majesty looked down to find that his consort had fallen into a peaceful sleep on his chest. He smiled gently and ran a finger across her delicate cheekbone; gods, she had worked herself to the bone. And despite that she tried to hide it, he knew she was scared - no, _terrified _- that she was going to lose him. It could be seen whenever he tried to coax her into letting him fight once more, or when he trained himself each day. The fear of losing him would light the depths of those gorgeous blue gems, and she'd sit in desperate, pleading silence for almost hours on end.

The Vampire King frowned slightly, placing a gentle kiss atop his queen's silky midnight curls. She would never lose him. Not ever. Time would collapse before he'd ever let go of his light, his love, his _everything_. She was the one thing that made this dull, monotonous existence bearable. He'd be damned if something were to seperate them.

A thin, drawn-out howl weaved its way into the cavern; the air-raid warning. The king glanced down at his still-sleeping queen. She was so exhausted; it was painful to watch her go through this day after day. An idea popped into his sharp mind and he managed to slide out from under his sleeping consort without much difficulty. He placed her in their shared coffin and gently kissed her on the forehead. "Darling, forgive me, but I cannot stand idly by while you destroy yourself. I'm fighting this round. I love you."

Without hesitation, His Vampiric Majesty strode out of his cavern to prepare for battle. His loyal chamberlain Lugosi floated along behind him, an expression of carefully measured concern lining his unchanging face. "Your Majesty, if I may be so bold as to ask why you're deciding to let Her Vampiric Majesty sleep through this particular raid? Truth be told, she's been very worried about you as of late."

The king quickly pulled on his elegantly-forged black armor and glanced at Lugosi over his shoulder. "I know, Lugosi. But she's hurting herself, and I cannot allow my queen to keep fighting this war all by herself. I will gladly accept all the consequences she has to offer for me if it means she can get a few extra hours of rest."

Lugosi nodded sagely, but said nothing further. There were times when being a chamberlain sucked; this was one of those times.

* * *

><p>His Vampiric Majesty screeched a challenge out over the skies, folding his massive wings and diving towards a rather large Imperial Sky-ship. The wind whistled and howled in his ears, rushing over his flesh like icy water, and the thrill of battle roared through his entire being. Yes! This was more like it! He crashed into the decks, transforming into his humanoid form, and immediately ripped the throats out of four healthy young men. Blood dripped down his face and neck in rivers. It poured in gallons across polished wood like so much liquid rubies.<p>

The king's pupils dialated until the depths of his eyes were nothing more than deep, soulless pits. Soldiers screamed in terror as they fell before him, such was the wrath of this undead horror. He wouldn't stop until each and every soldier under General Scipio Bellorum was dead. And at the rate he was going, that wouldn't take very long. Four massive galleons had already fallen, along with countless numbers of wasp-fighters.

The order to retreat could be heard on Bellorum's flagship, _The Pearl_, and screeches of elated triumph erupted from the victorious Vampires and Snowy Owls. They'd beaten Bellorum once more! And though they might've been exhausted physically, mentally they could've taken on ten times the number of men they'd fought today. His Vampiric Majesty screamed out an order to reform, watching in satisfaction as his soldiers reformed into squadrons as one writhing black mass. Rank upon rank of disciplined undead soldiers swooped down to land within the Frostmarris square. They shifted back into their human forms one by one, cheering loudly at their success in driving back the hated Polypontian masses.

And then along came Her Vampiric Majesty. . .

"YOU STUPID, IDIOTIC MAN!"

The Vampire King had to consciously keep himself from cringing at the fury in his wife's screech. He turned sheepishly towards the sound of her voice, immediately blanching when he caught a glimpse of her face. Furious was too tame of a word for what was etched onto her gorgeous features now; livid would even be an understatement, although it was rather closer to what his consort was feeling at that particular moment.

"Dearest heart, I can explain - "

The queen raised her hand sharply, azure eyes glinting up at a rather scared king. "Don't even try that with me! The next time you try something this stupid, I'll rip your limbs off with my bare hands and force-feed them to Grishmak while you watch! IS THAT COMPLETELY UNDERSTOOD!"

His Vampiric Majesty gulped loudly and nodded. He waited in quiet silence for a moment before his consort let out another angry squeal, turned on her heel, and stalked away at a pace he didn't even think would be possible for him to match. Commander Bramorius Stokescue came up from behind, placing an encouraging hand on the king's shoulder. "Your Majesty, I don't mean to be crude, but I'm pretty sure you've severely pissed off your queen."

"Bramorius, normally I'd flay you alive for such a remark. But this time, I cannot deny the fact that you're right. I just hope she doesn't follow through with her threat to feed my limbs to Grishmak tonight."

_**I'm !**_

_**After one ridiculously long hiatus, your favorite psychotic Vampire supporter is back in town! And she seems to think that her writing has improved. . . **_

_**Yes. . . . No. . . . . . This is the kind of thing that the blue button in the page's crotch is for people. You know, the one that says "review" on it.**_

_**Welp, tell me whatcha think and I'll see if I can work on a new chapter in the meantime.**_

**_With lots of love and thanks,  
>BlackRosePoetry<em>******


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

The caverns in beneath Frostmarris's citadel had a strange power. They could suck any sound out of the air in an instant, whether it was a screech from an undead warrior or a howl from a Wolf-folk patrolman. There was just something in the stone that had a tendency to suck all life out of the atmosphere, making everything resound in a constant, disturbing silence. Said atmosphere contributed greatly to Her Vampiric Majesty's sour mood as she brooded in the depths of her chambers. She stared ahead, unwavering in her attempt to burn a hole through solid granite with nothing but a raging glare. It wasn't working, but damn if that look didn't have all the power cow even King Grishmak

Pure, unadulterated fury simply _roared_ through the queen's very core. She couldn't explain why she was so angry - which only served to make her all the more livid - but the king's actions had set off a tempest inside her brain. Sitting and mulling the cause of her anger over, the queen began to realize something. . . . and that something made the rage grow.

She wasn't upset about Kingy going off to fight alone. She wasn't upset that he hadn't woken her up. The rage wasn't directed towards her husband; it was directed towards herself. The Vampire Queen, aloof and elegant and precise in everything she ever did, felt weak. Not being able to withstand Bellorum's constant attacks, the fatigue of non-stop fighting, and emotional tension had made her fall. She was no longer indestructible; the uncompromisable queen was now _weak _and _soft _and _vulnerable_. It was enough to make her want to vomit, or scream until her lungs collapsed, or even both.

Her Vampiric Majesty huffed irritably. Damn emotions. Damn them! Why did the Goddess even feel the need to create something that was so horribly confusing and irritating? Even after almost 1,500 years of existence, she still couldn't grasp the concept of them! A small sound behind her alerted the queen to the presence of someone. She glanced over her shoulder and snapped, "What do you want?"

The Vampire King gulped; he could face thousands of Polypontian men led by a psychotic general with no problems, but when it came to facing his severely angry wife, he was about as brave as an abused dog. He took a deep breath and strode forward, placing his arms around Her Vampiric Majesty from behind. Her shoulders stiffened considerably and she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. The king placed a kiss on her temple, whispering, "Darling, I'm sorry if I upset you earlier."

The queen succeeded in getting away from her consort's hug, whipping around to hiss at him so ferociously it made Tharaman-Thar seem tame in comparison. "_Upset _me? Dearest heart, in case you've failed to notice, I passed the region of _upset_ long ago!"

His Vampiric Majesty gulped again. Though he loathed to admit it, she was right; she was indeed long past the point of being merely upset. And now that he thought about it a little bit more thoroughly, he could see that she had every right to be so utterly furious with him. He shouldn't have left her alone in the caves. He should've had the decency to wake his queen up when the air-raid warning had sounded. Looking past the rage, now that familiar terror could be seen swimming in her beautiful eyes.

"My dearest, I know that, but you've got to understand my point of view. You were so tired, and I'm healed; I was thinking that -"

"That I was weakened?" she snarled, voice dangerously low. "That I couldn't handle it anymore? Believe me, I know how tired I was. I could've handled myself just fine."

Now it was time for even His Vampiric Majesty's slow-burning temper to ignite. His eyes darkened and he advanced on the queen, gripping her arms tightly as he pulled himself flush against her body. Their Vampiric Majesties were mere millimeters apart from one another, eyes darkened to pitch by fury.

"Don't you ever think that I would consider you weak! The sky would crumble before such a thought would cross my mind. Do you really wish to know why I didn't wake you up? It was because you were destroying yourself one moment at a time right in front of my eyes; and I am** not** about to let you destroy yourself because you're scared to you'll lose me!"

The ear-shattering silence pressed in from all sides once more, and as his anger receded, the Vampire King realized that tears were streaming down his wife's high-cheekbones. She stared at him with wide eyes, shaking slightly in anger and _fear_. Immediately, he let go of her arms and stepped back, eyes widening when he saw bruises beginning to form on the pale skin he'd been gripping earlier. The king gulped loudly and clenched his fists at his sides. "Darling. . . . I'm so - "

"Don't you dare say you're sorry." the queen whispered, dashing away tears with a delicate hand. "You were right; I am scared. I wanted to do everything by myself because I wasn't strong enough to let you fight again."

His Vampiric Majesty frowned angrily. "Was that what this all was? Some kind of twisted emotional workout for you?"

Burning pain erupted in his cheek, followed quickly by a resounding "slap!" that echoed throughout the labyrinth of the cavern system. The Vampire King clutched his cheek in astonishment; he hadn't even seen her move. She now stood directly before him, tears flowing angrily once more and clenched fists trembling at her sides. The Vampire Queen placed her hands on either side of the king's face and shook him harshly, shouting, "I CAN'T LOSE YOU AGAIN!"

A stifled sob erupted from Her Vampiric Majesty's throat as she continued softly, "Not again. . . I - I'm not strong enough."

The king placed his hands over the queen's, pulling her closer and giving her a gentle kiss. "If we fight together, you won't have to be."

Bright baby-blue gemstones - ones he'd never get tired of seeing, even after a thousand years - glittered with just the barest hint of a smile, and she leaned into his chest. His Vampiric Majesty wrapped his arms around his consort, placing his chin atop her delicate midnight curls. He chuckled lowly. "You know, our existences would be much more interesting if we'd fight like this more often. I quite enjoy the make-up hugs. . . even if they're not quite like make-up sex."

The queen raised her head quickly to stare at him with a rather odd expression on her pale face. It was a mixture of shock, horror, and amusement, and despite all the tension they'd been feeling moments before, a rather disturbed grin was spreading across her face. "I cannot **believe **you just said that."

Now it was the king's turn to grin. "What can I say? I've been around Grishmak far too long. It's beginning to disturb my thought processes."

She just giggled in amusement. "Yes, I believe you have been around that psychotic werewolf for too long. Please, for the love of whatever deity there may be, do **not **say something like that ever again."

Their Vampiric Majesties stood there and laughed quietly for a while, somehow ending up in another bone-crushing hug. For a while they simply stood there, not wanting to disturb the perfect silence that was permeating the air around them. Not surprisingly it was the king who broke it first. "Darling, Thirrin wanted me to tell you that we're supposed to be joining all the allies in the Great Hall later for a feast. All I caught was something about celebrating the defeat of the Sky-Navy."

Her Vampiric Majesty huffed irritably. "I'm beginnning to think that you'd rather spend time with Thirrin than you would with me."

"Well, Tharaman and Grishmak did challenge me to a drinking contest. . . and I was rather hoping you would say yes."

"They do realize that Vampires are unable to get drunk right?"

"I might've forgotten to mention that little detail. But don't worry; by the time they both realize it, they'll be so drunk they won't be able to see an inch in front of their faces."

The queen slapped her consort playfully on the chest, but proceeded to pull him in the direction of the cavern's exit. "You're an awful, manipulative, cruel individual, my dearest heart." A grin quickly spread across her lips, and she pulled him in for a quick kiss. "But you're my awful, manipulative, cruel individual and I love every searingly long minute of it."

"You are a shameless flirt when you're feeling guilty, aren't you?"

"What is this 'guilt' you speak of? I don't believe that word is in my vocabulary."

They stepped into the dimly-lit courtyard. Dusk was falling over the city, illuminating all the bustling activity of not only chamberlains and chambermaids, but soldiers of every species in the alliance. Wolf-folk warriors and Snow Leopards were working to pull huge carts filled to the brim with food and alcohol. Even a few of their own Vampires were assisting the humans with moving long tables and benches into the wide space before them. The Vampire King took his queen's hand, and they strode arm-in-arm into the citadel.

"Don't play coy with me, darling. I've been your consort far too long to not know when you're feeling guilty about something. Now: please try to keep yourself from injuring Grishmak too badly. That werewolf has already taken too many head-injuries to be completely stable."

The queen cocked an eyebrow as they entered the smoke-and-soldier-filled space known as the Great Hall. "I wouldn't have had to have injured him nearly so badly last time if he wasn't such an insensitive - " She stopped to stare at her consort for a long moment.

His Vampiric Majesty frowned slightly. "What is it, my beloved?"

"Your hair is a mess. Turn around.

The king groaned slightly, but, catching the firey look in the queen's eyes, he did as he was told. Long, lithe fingers gently wove themselves into the silky strands that were matted on the back of his head, pulling them apart and arranging them until their owner found herself satisfied. Eventually, Their Vampiric Majesties found themselves sitting at the Royal Table with the other Allied rulers.

And, surprisingly, Her Vampiric Majesty couldn't remember a time she'd ever been happier.


End file.
